


Like It's Only You and Me

by alliancedogtags



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Sharing a Bed, arthur feels like he needs to be Polite tm & charles is like dude it's fine, oh no there's only one bed what will we do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 11:50:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16764571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alliancedogtags/pseuds/alliancedogtags
Summary: Soaked by rain and tired from a long travel, Arthur and Charles find comfort at the hotel.





	Like It's Only You and Me

**Author's Note:**

> no editing we die like cowboys  
> this idea was brought to me talking to both kawaiibooker and bloody-valkyrie!! these two are fantastic!! 😊 thank you guys for letting me straight up ramble repeatedly!!

Strawberry is as Strawberry was.

This time, it was highly occupied, men and women bustling about for some local event or another - Arthur couldn’t remember what, now. The Trackers hotel had been full to the brim when they’d knocked on the door, with one available room left. A room it was, at least.

Whatever gentlemanly bits Arthur had let remain had him pulling his bedroll off the back of his saddle, despite Charles’ repeated attempts to tell him that he didn’t need it.

It felt impolite not to.

Fifteen days (he definitely wasn’t counting) since he’d let his heart lead his mind and he’d kissed Charles. It wasn’t an affectionate fifteen days, with the pair trying to keep things off the charts and away from prying folks. He and Charles were private men, after all. That didn’t stop the occasional time they pushed the boat out for fishing and instead found themselves stealing kisses like they were gold, or Charles’ hand finding his beneath the table when the dark of the campsite all but hid it, or Arthur’s sleepy smiles when Charles woke him up with a hot mug of coffee.

Dutch did keep a man on a tight rope, though. Always on some kind of plan, some new job, sending him off in the day hours that had him riding along by himself while longing for the certain comfort of Charles and Taima at his side. 

In short, things were slower than molasses going uphill.

When Hosea had mentioned a job in Strawberry and that the two of them could handle it, he may as well have lit a shuck, with the distance that the pair put between themselves and camp. 

A sunny ride through Lemoyne in a shirt and slacks had turned to a cloudy afternoon in New Hanover had turned to a rainy ride in West Elizabeth, donned in warm jackets that just couldn’t keep out the cold that rain delivered. Arthur’s jaw had been set tight with the cold for the last hour and Charles had commented that it would be colder once they stopped moving. He was right, as always - the second that he had to get what was now a sopping wet jacket off of him, he took it. Charles had opted for a bath at the first offer, voice teasing when he invited Arthur to join, though he understood that Arthur’s first order of business was to get dry clothes on.

When Charles returned to the room, it was to Arthur laying out his bedroll on the floor. Charming, really; Charles couldn’t hide the amused smile when he realized what Arthur was doing.

“Arthur, what are you doing?”

Arthur turned a bit to look back at Charles, watching the man shut the door. What, exactly, was his excuse? “Jus’ figured, you know, that y’might as well take the bed. Another night on the floor won’t kill me.”

“You’re not joining me?” Charles asked, fingers ghosting up Arthur’s back in a way that raised goosebumps on his skin. “It is a double.”

“Thinkin’ it might not be proper. Feelin’ to hold on to the bit of gentleman left in me,” Arthur replied, watching as Charles stepped away and over to where his bag sat on the floor. He couldn’t help but let his gaze linger, watching damp black locks move loose against firm shoulders, the way the lamplight warmed up Charles’ face. All of it so, so inviting. “Just trying to be respectful. Everyone has their boundaries.”

“I’d prefer you join me in the bed,” Charles started, giving Arthur a pointed look, “but I know you’re too stubborn to.”

“You know me too well, sugar,” Arthur replied, shooting Charles a grin.

  
  


Not even close to an hour he’d spent, sketching with the bit of charcoal he’d kept in his journal. Arthur kept his back to the front wall or the room, eyes lingering on Charles who sat in bed, watching the man run a brush through his hair before he’d changed to cleaning and sharpening his knife.

Both things that Arthur was into, no lie.

Charles, as of late, had become a more commonplace in his journaling, absent notes about his favorite foods and flowers and hobbies tucked in between pages of sketches. Sketches of Charles, of Charles and Taima, little notes made about jobs they could work on together. He’d even, though he’d fought the urge to pull the page out of the notebook, written about the way the sun shone on Charles’ face one morning and when the man had turned a dazzling smile to Arthur, he’d all but forgotten to breathe.

Eventually he’d shut his journal, resting his head back against the wall and watching as Charles ran the bit of flint across his knife. He did always keep his gear in top shape.

Arthur found himself dozing, mind occupied by the day’s ride. A fact he didn’t notice until he felt the soft brush of fingertips across the curve of his cheek and the featherweight touch of a kiss to his lips. In the time since he’d nodded off, Charles had finished sharpening his knife and had padded across the room, now crouched down next to Arthur so that he was at his level.

He gladly returned the kiss upon waking up, leaning forward a bit when Charles leaned back, hand resting on Arthur’s shoulder. “Come to bed,” he murmured, leaning in to steal another kiss from the cowboy, lips lingering with unspoken promises of more kisses to be had. “You’ll get sick sleeping on the floor, and I’d enjoy the company.”

“Sure, but only because of the sick part,” Arthur replied, eyes glinting with mischief and smile widening when Charles chuckled. “The rest of that just sounds like hogwash.”

“You’re full of it,” Charles teased, leaning in to snag one more kiss before rising to his feet again and offering Arthur a hand to get up off the floor. A hand which Arthur took, rising to his feet but not letting go instantly, instead hauling Charles in to kiss the corner of his smile. 

Something about touching him, and being held back, felt better than the warmth from a few shots at the bar, leaving Arthur warm and tingly. His body ached when Charles’ hand moved from him, wanting to pull it back, to feel the weight and warmth of another person again.

Life on the road was hell.

When Charles let go of him, Arthur was all too ready to tuck up tightly beneath the warmth of the blankets, an upgrade from the cold of the floor. And there was  _ Charles _ under the blankets. A polite part of him kept him on his side of the bed, snug in his spot and leaving a space between the two of them.

First it started with Charles’ hand, fingers brushing Arthur’s beneath the sheets and tracing over the back of his hand. Then it was a gentle tug, skilled fingers running up his forearm, drawing Arthur just a little bit closer.

“Arthur… Come here,” Charles finally murmured, hands lifting and cupping his cheeks to draw him in for a kiss. Arthur was all too happy to, crossing that gap that he had left and wrapping his arms around the steady form of Charles, kissing him back gladly and pressing up snug to him. A sort of comfort he hadn’t had in a long time, cuddling up to another person and receiving such soft kisses, heart fluttering at every bit of contact. 

Charles was a man of showing rather than talking. He’d always been - showing Arthur the tracks while hunting rather than telling him how they looked, reminding Arthur through action the kind of man that he was, spending his time showing Arthur how to set up the perfect shot with a bow.

The same could be said of the man’s kissing, lips seeking that affection that Arthur so easily gave to him, fingers slipping into Charles’ hair as he hummed into the kiss. Charles showed him through his kisses how he felt, how much he’d wanted to do this, revisiting that spark from the first night that they’d kissed.

Arthur knew, tangled up in his arms and letting his kisses linger, that there needed to be more jobs that just the two of them worked on.


End file.
